


A Game Called Relationship

by sunflowerwonder



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alien Abduction, Awkward Romantic Situations, Been playing a lot of 999 lads, Evil Calliope, Forced Kissing, Fuck Or Die, Japanese-style Deathgame, M/M, Romance Or Die, Shipping Satire, but its
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-11-04 12:10:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10990689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflowerwonder/pseuds/sunflowerwonder
Summary: Jake English wakes up to a blurred mental state and two (literal) alien voices textually yelling at him on a wrist-bound screen he can't seem to take off.It beeps.That probably isn't a good sign.





	A Game Called Relationship

**Author's Note:**

> It should be noted that, like most of my works, this is just a small portion of a larger AU. I usually just encourage people to make up their own resolution from the implications I write. Unless you're arc and write an actual sequel to AHB that fucks up my heart. In which case I just cry.

 

> **\-- HOST NOTIFICATION! --**
> 
> **UU: good moUrning sweetheart! thank yoU for participating in oUr silly little game! ^u^**  
>  **UU: i imagine you’re still a tad groggy, bUt do not fear! the sedative will wear off in a matter of hoUrs!!**  
>  **UU: nothing has officially started Up yet. so feel free to get yoUr bearings for the time present.**  
>  **UU: thoUgh i Upmost suggest yoU introdUce yoUrself to yoUr new partner if yoU woUld like a headstart.**  
>  **UU: Universe knows yoU’ll need it! ou~**

Jake stared at the text on the screen that was quite literally bolted to his arm. The bright rectangle of textual horror was set into a bracer that extended about halfway up his forearm, crafted from a dark, welded metal and with the distinct feature of not having a visible latch, clasp, or indeed even a seem.

It beeped.

 

> **\-- HOST NOTIFICATION! --**  
>  **uu: YOu.**  
>  **uu: YOu THERE. BOY.**  
>  **uu: BOY. SMALL BOY. BOY WHO IS NOT THE ALPHA MALE. HAVE I OBTAINED YOuR ATTENTION.**  
>  **uu: IF YOuR PITIFUL HuMAN FORM IS CAPABLE OF A COGNIZANCE ABOVE THAT OF A SMALL EARTH MAMMAL. NOD.**  
>  **uu: OTHERWISE WE WILL BOTH FIND THIS GAME. SHORTER THAN ANTICIPATED.**

 Jake could see nothing in the bleak white around him. Not even a door. Not even a discernible source for the glowing light that illuminated him and cast the corners of the square room in grayed shadow. A thick, blurred feeling in his head clung tight to the inside of his skull. It dulled the panic arcing its way up his spine.

 He dipped his chin down, slowly.

 

> **uu: WHAT. THE FUCK. WAS THAT.**  
>  **uu: DO YOu WISH TO FuRTHER TEMPT YOuR OWN. ALREADY FuTILE. FATE?**  
>  **uu: I ORDERED YOu TO NOD. HUMAN. BOY. LESSER MALE.**  
>  **uu: NOD. NOW.**

 Jake’s breathing was picking up. Everything felt too bright and too strange. Dreamlike, but too sharp around the edges to be a moonlit fantasy.

He nodded his head down again.

 

> **uu: WHAT.**  
>  **uu: WHY ARE YOu SHAKING YOuR HEAD. LIKE THAT.**  
>  **uu: THIS IS NOT THE TIME TO MOCK YOuR EXTRATERRESTRIAL SuPERIORS.**  
>  **uu: IT IS ALSO MAKING ME. VAGuELY uNCOMFORTABLE.**

 “What…” Jake whispered aimlessly. There did not appear to be cameras in the room. “What do you want from me?”

 

> **uu: MY SISTER WILL EXPLAIN THE DETAILS. LATER.**  
>  **uu: NOW NOD FOR ME. OR YOu WILL NOT MAKE IT PAST THIS ROOM.**  
>  **uu: THE BRuTAL AND NuMEROUS PEOPLE WITNESSING THIS CONVERSATION WILL ALL LAuGH.**  
>  **uu: THE SILLY LESSER MALE COuLD NOT EVEN MAKE IT PAST THE TuTORIAL. THEY WILL ALL SAY. WHILE LAuGHING. AT YOu.**  
>  **uu: THEY WILL TELL YOu TO DO WHAT I AM AWARE THE HuMANS CALL. *GETTING GuD*.**  
>  **uu: AND THEN I WILL SEND THE ALPHA MALE IN HERE TO KILL YOu.**

The panic was no longer dulled.

“What do you—Where am I?” Jake called out into the blank expanse of the walls around him. “I nodded—I nodded! I did! What in blazes else could you possibly want of me?”

 

> **uu: YOu CLAIM TO HAVE RAISED YOuR MIDDLE FINGER IN THE AIR. AS YOuR HuMAN SIGN OF COMPLIANCE. YET I HAVE NOT SEEN ANY PROSTRATED CENTRAL APPENDAGES. AND EVEN LESS COMPLIANCE.**

 “You… You think raising one’s middle finger is a nod?”

 

> **uu: YES. BECAuSE I HAVE INTIMATE KNOWLEDGE OF YOuR HuMAN SPECIES. CuLTIVATED OVER YEARS OF CAREFuL PRE-INVASION RESEARCH. AND MY OWN SuPERIOR INTELLECT.**  
>  **uu: THE ALPHA MALE HAD NO ISSuES RAISING HIS FINGER WHEN I ASKED HIM TO NOD. HE KNOWS HOW TO RESPECT. HIS HOSTS.**  
>  **uu: YOu ARE BEING. WHAT THE HuMANS CALL. *PROBLEMATIC*.**

“I’m not—“ Jake started, breath barely filling his lungs as his eyes scanned the text. “What?”

 

> **uu: YES. YOu ARE.**  
>  **uu: YOu ARE THE *MOST* PROBLEMATIC.**  
>  **uu: NOW NOD.**

Jake was convinced this was a trick. Some sort of asinine prank played by one of his now-ex-friends who may or may not have snooped his browser history and uncovered his taste for UFO-related shenanigans. He imagined himself on a future viral video, posted to YouTube for the masses to mock. He imagined himself dead on the floor of this blank “tutorial room,” the victim of the alien abduction he always secretly wished would actually happen to him. 

The thought of his childish fantasies sunk like a bad trip to Burger King in his stomach. Whatever this… thing he was speaking to was, it was probably best to play along. 

Jake slowly raised his middle finger, flipping an unseeing presence the bird.

 

> **uu: YESSSSS.**  
>  **uu: THE SWEET SMELL OF SuBMISSION. YOu ARE TRuLY THE WEAKER MALE.**  
>  **uu: BUT AS I SAID. I ALREADY KNEW THIS.**  
>  **uu: tumut. ( <==THAT IS YOu. BEING COMPLACENT TO MY WILL. AS YOu SHOuLD BE.)**

“Right,” Jake said, lowering his hand. The bracer felt stiff around his wrist.

 

> **uu: YOuR ADMITTANCE TO MY SuPERIORITY HAS PROCuRED YOu A REWARD. HuMAN. A TREAT FOR YOuR COMPLETE LACK OF BACKBONE.**  
>  **uu: BUT I AM ALSO JuST SAYING THAT. BECAuSE I AM INTRODUCING A GAME MECHANIC. AND I WANT YOu TO FEEL SPECIAL ABOuT IT.**  
>  **uu: EVEN THOuGH EVERYONE PLAYING THIS GAME IS GETTING TOLD THE SAME THING. AT THIS SAME TIME. OR MAYBE EVEN SOONER THAN YOu.**  
>  **uu: INCLuDING THE ALPHA MALE. WHO YOu WILL MEET SOON. AND WHO I HAVE INSTRuCTED TO KILL YOu.**

“Fuck,” Jake said. He felt drained. Unfooted and lost and tumbling down the truly batshit stairwell of a sober drugtrip that may or may not intend to snap his neck.

 

> **uu: WHINE NOT. LESSER BOY. REST ASSuRED THAT I AM HERE.**  
>  **uu: AND I AM YOuR GOD NOW.**

With that final, possibly fatal string of words Jake was forced to look up from his screen at the harsh sound of metal screeching against metal. He flinched, hands shoving against his ears, and watched the wall in front of him slide agape.

The room beyond the bleak holding chamber was lit significantly warmer. Soft was not an adjective Jake was expecting to use on this crazed misadventure, yet soft was all he could bring himself to describe the hallway he cautiously stepped into.

The hallway itself seemed to go on infinitely in both directions, though there was nothing but empty space as far as Jake could see in either. The wallpaper was old but a nostalgic stripe of orange and brown in that 70’s-esque, grandma’s house kind of way. A little end table sat dutifully in front of him. On it was a lamp with a gold-hued lightbulb, a potted cactus succulent, a three-ring binder labelled “IMPORTANT RULES FOR YOUR SURIVAL! ^~^”, and a gun.

Jake took the gun.

Next to the table was a door with a welcome mat. He turned his attention towards it, cocked the gun, and faltered.

Why was he cocking his gun with no target in sight?

No amount of hunting experience with his Grandma could possibly prepare him for what he was doing now. And what, exactly, was he even doing? Preparing to shoot someone? Preparing to kill someone? Preparing to kill this “Alpha Male” that was apparently set to kill him first?

 

> **uu: I SEE YOu HAVE FOuND MY GIFT. THE ONE THAT IS JuST A GAME MECHANIC.**  
>  **uu:  MY SISTER AND I HAVE BEEN POuRING THROuGH YOuR ONLINE DATABASES. YOuR TEXTS. YOuR EMAILS. AND ANY MEDIAS OF THE SOCIAL KIND.**  
>  **uu: ALSO WHATEVER THE FUCK A TWITTER IS.**  
>  **uu: I WAS ABLE TO DEDuCE. THROUGH THE AMAZING DEDuCTIONAL POWERS YOu JuST AFFIRMED WERE CORRECT. THAT YOu ARE PROFICIENT IN THIS HuMAN WEAPON CALLED *GuNS*.**  
>  **uu: I HAVE DECIDED. IN AN uNPRECEDENTED BOuT OF SYMPATHY FOR EARTH KIND. THAT I QuITE LIKE THESE HUMAN *GuNS*. THEY MAKE ME FEEL *POWERFuL.***  
>  **uu: MAYBE THEY WILL MAKE YOu FEEL. LIKE SLIGHTLY LESS OF A COMPLETE DIPSHIT.**

 Jake clicked off the safety.

 

> **uu: YES. YES YES. CAN YOu MAKE IT DO THE CLICKY BACK THING AGAIN? I WANT TO SEE THE CLICKY BACK THING AGAIN.**  
>  **uu: YOu MAY NOT BE AS COMPLETELY FuCKING uSELESS AS ANTICIPATED.**  
>  **uu: THIS GAME FuNCTIONS ON EARTH WOLF PACK RuLES. BY THE WAY. IF YOu KILL THE ALPHA THAT SuBJuGATES YOu THEN YOu WILL BE THE NEW ALPHA.**  
>  **uu: NOW. IF YOu ARE DONE BEING A COWARD. OPEN THE DOOR.**

 Jake took a steadying breath. His alien captive, in all its denseness, did have one detail right: Jake knew how to use a gun. He glanced back at the cheery-looking survivor’s manual sitting on the table. He wondered if leafing through it for intel was worth turning his back on whoever—whatever—was seemingly hunting him.

 He moved towards the door.

 

> **\-- HOST NOTIFICATION! --**  
>  **UU: don’t yoU dare toUch that doorhandle Until i finish Up my brother’s pissposh excUse for a tUtorial!!**  
>  **UU: please, i repeat PLEASE, do not shoot the man behind this door. he has decided not to harm yoU and i think it woUld be proper to extend him the same coUrtesy.**  
>  **UU: i’ve chosen him especially for yoU, jake, so it woUld be a real shame for yoU to jUst Up and mUrder the poor fellow!**  
>  **UU: do not mind my brother’s infatUation with violence. this is not a game aboUt mUrdering yoUr game partner.**  
>  **UU: i jUst had to allow killing within the game or else that vile scamp of a twin woUld have never agreed to enslave the hUman race with me.**  
>  **UU: yoU give some, yoU take some, as yoU hUmans are so fond of saying. ^~^**

 “What the fresh fuck,” Jake said, directly to the bracer.

 

> **UU: oh! i am so sorry, jake. we have rambled on well enoUgh. yoU may open the door now. tUtorial over.**  
>  **UU: bUt remember!**  
>  **UU: do! not! shoot! yoUr! partner!**  
>  **UU: alright. that is all. have fUn! <3**

Jake wondered if the good cop, bad cop routine was as common among alien abductors as it was in B-side cop comedies. He reflected on the trope, nervous in the trust he had instinctively placed in the nicer of the two creatures. And what of this game? Was he on a team? Jake had always considered himself something of a lone wolf. If only due to his distinct lack of any perceivable social skills. There was so much to process—so much to worry about—he almost didn't want to think at all.

He decided to just open the goddamn door. He would deduce if whatever was beyond was worthy of shooting later.

The door handle was a squeaking metal with a chipped brass coating. Everything about his environment reminded him of the aging apartments he used to couch-surf around during his time as a half-hearted adventurer who was quickly discovering the discomfort of lacking stable access to a shower. It was strange, certainly, but hardly the domineering alien architecture one would expect from being invited to some sort of violent tournament.

The door gave way to a living room one might find beyond an apartment door with a chipped-brass doorhandle. Aging but clean, dressed in shades of warm colors with wood paneling up a single wall and a comfortable-enough couch. Other than some particularly gaudy popcorn ceilings it was nothing less than serviceable. Nice, even.

But Jake was not focused on the interior design. Far from it. Instead his eyes settled on the centerpiece of the room: a man standing with triangle sunglasses, raising his empty hands with the lift of Jake’s gun. Jake settled his gun’s sight on the man but made no move to fire. He simply stood his ground and waited.

And waited.

The man made no sudden movements. He was unarmed, as far as Jake could see, and other than a slight frown tightening his lips, unaggressive.

“Hello,” he said. Jake gripped his gun firmer. “You must be my teammate. I’ve heard a lot about you over the past increasingly bizarre twenty minutes of my life.”

“Are you the alpha male?” Jake demanded, not taking his eye off his aim.

“The what?”

“The alpha male. The one sent to kill me.”

“The… ‘alpha male,’” the man repeated. Then he laughed. “I think there might be slight misunderstanding. Some asshole did tell me to kill my teammate but I took his advice with a slight grain of salt.”

Jake sighed a breath, but he was unsure if it was in relief. “Then…”

“Name’s Dirk,” the man said. He gestured his head towards a sizable brick fireplace. On top of the mantle sat a rather shitty looking ninja sword. "...And that's my katana. It was the weapon I was given when I got here, but I really would prefer to keep it as decor. That is, if you don't think it's too tacky. We are going to be living together."

Jake narrowed his eyes.

“Can I put my arms down now? I promise I’m unarmed.”

“No.”

Dirk gave a forced smile at this news, but did not move. “Alright. We can just stand here then. I guess.”

“Tell me everything you know right now—“ 

Something beeped.

Jake noticed Dirk was wearing an identical bracer to his own, and the rectangular screen had just lit up. Dirk lowered a hand to look at it, but Jake straightened his stance.

“Don’t,” Jake barked. “Don’t move.”

“If you want us both to make it out of this I suggest you develop a better attitude,” Dirk said. He sounded colder, suddenly, as he flashed the screen in front of his face anyway and began tapping on it.

“What are you doing?” Jake demanded.

“What does it look like?” Dirk replied. He pressed the screen twice more and then returned his hands to the air. “See? All done. Was that so bad?”

A split second later, Jake’s bracer lit up too.

Jake looked to Dirk, then to his bracer, and reluctantly lowered his gun to peek at the screen.

“Don’t try anything funny, buster,” he said. Dirk shrugged.

 

> **\-- OFFER NOTIFICATION! --**
> 
> **Congratulations on participating in this round of the RELATIONSHIP GAME! Your dedicated pairing name is now [DIRKJAKE]. Start things off on the right foot by allowing your Partner the chance to welcome you home the old fashioned way! What do you say?**
> 
> **REWARD: 15 POINTS**
> 
> **[ACCEPT]  |  [DENY]**
> 
> **OFFER TIME REMAINING: 4:46**

Jake watched the countdown timer slowly tick down. He grimaced at the strange words—none of which made even the slightest sense—and shoved the pad of his finger at the [DENY] button.

It didn’t click.

He tapped it a few more times, wary of the way the bracer seemed to beep threateningly as it reached 3:59, and in a huff of frustration clicked [ACCEPT] just to see the thing silenced.

It did not silence itself. Instead it played a joyful little diddy, lighting up fully and popping a small cloud of confetti directly in Jake’s face. He flinched away from the explosion, coughing slightly on a shred of confetti that landed in his mouth. He looked down to see a new timer had replaced the old on his bracer. This one was 10 minutes, twice as long, took up the majority of the bracer screen and flashed red every ten seconds.

“Fuck,” Dirk said, and suddenly he was no longer standing complacent in the middle of the living room, hands above his shoulders, but was instead right beside Jake, grabbing his arm and shoving it towards his face. “—What the fuck did you do?”

“I…” Jake started. The beeping was louder, now. It collided angrily with his groggy head. “I got an offer? Some sort of proposition? About a welcome?” 

Dirk looked at the countdown but his mind seemed to be elsewhere, processing the information. His grip on Jake’s arm did not yield in his mental lapse, however. If anything it grew tighter.

Then, just as Jake was sure his fingertips would leave bruises, Dirk’s own bracer lit up again. He pushed aside Jake’s arm to get a better look at it.

He paled.

“Fuck,” he said again, his breath turning erratic. “Fuck. What the fuck were you thinking?”

“I don’t know!” Jake yelled. “Do I look like I know half a hootenanny about anything that’s running around right now?”

“Did you not read the manual?” Dirk bit back.

Jake wilted. “…Ah. Yes. That.”

“For fuck’s sake.” The man ran a rough hand through his spiked hair. He seemed angry but also... Nervous. Scared.

“I was going to get back to it! When I was done not being hunted by some deranged teammate!”

“Partner,” Dirk said. “We’re partners. Fuck.”

“Tell me what’s happening, then,” Jake asked. He was starting to panic too. And he didn’t even know what in the blasted universe to be a panicked wreck about.

“If you would have read the manual, this wouldn’t even be happening,” Dirk replied.

Jake bared his teeth. “Yes. I surmised that. I was looking for some information more in the vicinity of damage control.” 

Dirk stilled. He took one, two deep breaths and cooled himself. Tapped his fingers against the side of his pantleg. 

“Alright,” he said. “Alright. Yeah. We’ll handle this.”

“Just tell me what’s going on.”

“In the long game? I think we have been abducted by either some form of psychopath with way too much fuckin’ time on his hands. Or possibly aliens. Or possibly both.”

“Alright,” Jake said, not really feeling as if it was alright at all. “And the short game?”

“They… They want me to…” Dirk stalled. His mouth flexed for words that struggled to come. “Whoever it is. They want us to simulate courtship." 

“Courtship?”

“Yes. As in, for example, one half of a partnership coming home from work while the other welcomes them to the residential apartment, uh, warmly. I think they might be… scientists? Of a sort? Assuming they’re actually aliens—" 

“Wait,” Jake interrupted. “Back up.” 

“For fuck’s sake,” Dirk said again, throwing his head to the side. “They want me to kiss you.”

Jake paused. “What?” 

“They wanted an action from us. And you accepted. For points. Whatever the fuck those are for. My booklet did not come with a damn prize index.” 

“And that action was…”

“Kissing,” Dirk said, holding up his bracer and waving his wrist slightly. Jake could not make out the small writing but he assumed it was a more detailed set of instructions. His own bracer beeped loudly, indicating another minute had passed.

“Kissing,” Jake repeated. “And, uh, what happens when this countdown reaches zero?” 

“Fuck if I know,” Dirk said. “I don’t really want to find out, though. Do you?”

Jake’s heartrate pounded in his ears. He fruitlessly tugged on the bracer.

“I don’t…” Jake said. “This was my mistake. I’m sorry.”

“I mean,” Dirk said. “Not really. You were clearly out of the loop. I shouldn’t have been so damn aloof—“

“What did they say exactly? In your message.”

Jake watched as Dirk visibly swallowed. “We don’t have to—it’s not worth the embarrassment. For either of us.”

“I think it’s quite worth avoiding this countdown, actually,” Jake said. The heightened edge to his voice seemed to stake down an increasingly frantic Dirk.

The other man took a deep breath. 

“Take your coat. Kiss you. And welcome you home.”

“That is very doable,” Jake said. His shoulders slumped. “…That is doable, isn’t it?” 

Dirk looked to him. “If...” he said. “If you’re okay—“

“Yes,” Jake replied. “Are you?”

“Yeah,” Dirk said. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Let’s just do this and then never look at our bracers again. Deal?”

“Sounds like fucking plan to me.”

They stared at each other. Neither of them moved. 

“Okay,” Dirk said, quiet, releasing a sigh Jake was sure he had been holding for half a minute. 

“It’ll be okay,” Jake murmured back. “We’ll make it funny.”

“Yeah,” Dirk agreed. “Can I… Can I take your coat?” 

“Surely,” Jake said, tugging off the thin, green overshirt he occasionally liked to put on over his tees. Hardly a coat, but he wasn’t about to explain garment nuance to a gaggle of aliens in the middle of a vague countdown.

Dirk’s hands came up to help him and he instinctually shrugged away from the stranger's fingertips. Dirk gave him an apologetic look. 

“You look like a self-sufficient gent,” Jake noted as Dirk tugged the cuff of the shirt around and off the snag of his bracer. Dirk tucked the cloth in his arm. “I have nary a clue why you were assigned to house-husbandry.” 

“I am twenty-four and still bumming around my brother’s apartment,” Dirk said. “I think they noticed I’m something of a homebody.”

“Well, I’m rather a fan of staying in myself,” Jake replied. “I have little clue where they got the idea of me as a working man.”

“It might have something to do with how long I had to wait for your ass to finish the damn tutorial.” Dirk was near now. He reached a hesitant hand up to Jake’s jaw.

“Is this—“

“Yes. Fine.”

“Alright—“

“I’m sorry, Dirk—“

“No. Don’t worry about it. We’ll just.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

“Then we should just—“

“Go for it.”

“On your tempo.”

“Right,” Dirk whispered. His thumb found purchase on Jake’s cheekbone and he pulled him in slightly. Jake felt Dirk’s warm breath on his mouth as they lingered close for a few seconds, unsure and self-conscious beneath the proximity of one another.

Jake pushed forward, feeling guilty but willing to get the misstep over with as quickly as possible. It was the barest touch of lips between them—barely over three seconds—but it felt solid enough to not send him flinching in regret and earnest enough to somewhat simulate real affection.

Dirk pulled back, hand still pressed to Jake’s cheek, but he did not look Jake in the eye.

“Welcome home,” he said.

Jake’s bracer popped with confetti again. From above the fireplace, a television screen flickered to life.

 

> **\-- YOU RECEIVED** 15 **POINTS! --**  
>  **CURRENT POINT TOTAL:** 15 **POINTS**  
>  **CONGRATULATIONS!**

 "Jesus," Dirk commented. He pulled away.

 

> **POINTS REQUIRED FOR NEXT PRIZE:** 50 **  
> ****NEXT PRIZE:** ONE WEEK'S FOOD RATIONS  
>  **CURRENT POINT TOTAL:** 15  
>  **CONGRATULATIONS!**

 "Fuck," Jake added.

 


End file.
